“No, I want you to do them one at a time.”
Toot lowered his sword, his expression crestfallen. “Oh.”
“First, I want you to find the boat out on the lake that my apprentice is in. She’s not more than a mile or two from shore.” I took off my silver pentacle amulet, wrapped the chain around it, and handed it to Toot-toot. “Leave this where she will notice it right away.”
Toot accepted the amulet gravely, tucking it under one arm. “It will be done.”
“Thank you.”
Toot-toot’s chest swelled out, and he stood a little bit straighter.
“Second,” I told him. “I need to know how many of the little folk you could convince to join the Guard for one night.”
He frowned and looked dubious. “I don’t know, Lord Harry. The pizza ration is already stretched as far as it can go.”
I waved a hand. “The Guard’s pay won’t change. I’ll order extra to pay for the new guys’ service. Call them the Za-Lord’s Militia. We only need them sometimes. How many do you think would agree to that?”
Toot buzzed in an excited circle. “For you? Every sprite and pixie and dewdrop faerie within a hundred miles knows that you saved our kind from being imprisoned by the Lady of the Cold Eyes! There’s not a one who didn’t have comrade or kin languishing in durance vile!”
I blinked at him. “Oh,” I said. “Well. Tell them that there may be great danger. Tell them that if they wish to join the Militia, they must obey orders while they serve. And I will pay them one large pizza for every fourscore volunteers.”
“That’s less than you pay the Guard, Harry,” Toot said smugly.
“Well, they’re amateurs, not full-time veterans like you and your men, are they?”
“Yes, my lord!”
I looked at him seriously. “If you can recruit a Militia and if they perform as asked, there’s a promotion in it for you, Toot.”
His eyes widened. “Does it come with cheese in the crust and extra toppings?”
“It isn’t a pizza.” I said. “It’s a promotion. Get this work done, and from that time forward, you will be . . .” I paused dramatically. “Major-General Toot-toot Minimus commanding the Za-Lord’s Elite.”
Toot’s body practically convulsed in a spasm of excitement. Had a giant yellow exclamation point suddenly appeared in the air over his head, I would not have been surprised. “A Major-General?”
I couldn’t resist. “Yes, yes,” I said solemnly. “A Major-General.”
He let out a whoop of glee and zipped up and down the little space between vans. “What do you wish us to do when I have them, my lord!”
“I want you to play,” I said. “Here’s what we’re going to do. . . .”
I rejoined Will and Georgia, and ten minutes later, the Water Beetle came chugging back toward the marina. The grasshopper got my brother’s boat into dock with only a mildly violent impact. I secured lines quickly, and Will and Georgia jumped on. Almost before Will’s feet were on the deck, I was already untying the lines and following them onto the boat. Molly, for her part, already had the engine in reverse.
“Now what?” she called down to me from the wheel atop the cabin.
“Use the compass on the dashboard. One to two degrees south of due east, and call me when you spot the island.”
“Aye aye!”
Will squinted at Molly and then at me. “ ‘Aye aye’?”
I shook my head sadly. “Landlubbers. I’m going to go shiver timbers or something. I haven’t slept in a while.”
“Go ahead, Harry,” Georgia said. “We’ll wake you if anything happens.”
I nodded, shambled down to the second bunk, and passed out immediately.
Someone shook me two seconds later and I said, “Go away.”
“Sorry, Harry,” Will said. “We’re here.”
I said several uncouth and thoughtless things, then manned up and opened my eyes, always the hardest part of waking up. I sat up, and Will retreated from the cramped cabin with a glance at Morgan’s unconscious form. I sat there with my mouth feeling like it had been coated in Turtle Wax. It took me a second to identify a new sound.
Rain.
Raindrops pattered onto the deck of the boat and the roof of the cabin.
I shambled out onto the deck, unconcerned about the rain ruining my leather duster. One handy side effect of going through the painfully precise ritual of enchanting it to withstand physical force as if it had been plate steel was that the thing was rendered waterproof and stainproof as well—yet it still breathed. Let’s see Berman’s or Wilson’s do that.
Sufficiently advanced technology, my ass.
I climbed up to the bridge, keeping an eye on the sky as I did. Lowering clouds of dark grey had covered the sky, and the rain looked to be a long, steady soaker—a rarity in a Chicago summer, which usually went for rough-and-tumble thunderstorms. The heat hadn’t let up much, and as a result the air was thick and heavy enough to swim through.
I took the wheel from Molly, oriented myself by use of the compass and the island, now only a few minutes away, and yawned loudly. “Well. This makes things less pleasant.”
“The rain?” Molly asked. She passed me my pentacle.
I slipped it back over my head and nodded. “I’d planned on lying off the island until closer to dark.”
“Why?”
“Mostly because I just challenged the Senior Council to a brawl there at sundown,” I said.
Molly choked on her gum.
I ignored her. “I didn’t want to make it easy for them to slip up on me. Oh, and I’ve arranged to trade Thomas for Morgan with Shagnasty. He won’t get word of where to go until later, though. I think otherwise he’d cheat and show up early. He looks like a shifty character.”
The pun went past Molly, or maybe she was just that good at ignoring it. “You’re trading Morgan for Thomas?”
“Nah. I just want to get Shagnasty out here with Thomas in one piece so that the White Court can take him down.”
Molly stared at me. “The White Court, too?”
I nodded happily. “They’ve got a stake in this as well.”
“Um,” she said. “Why do you think the Senior Council will take you up on your challenge?”
“Because I told them I was going to be producing an informant who would give testimony about who really killed LaFortier.”
“Do you have someone like that?” Molly asked.
I beamed at her. “No.”
She stared at me for a moment, clearly thinking. Then she said, “But the killer doesn’t know that.”
My smile widened. “Why, no, Miss Carpenter. He doesn’t. I made sure word got around headquarters of my challenge to the Senior Council. He’s got no choice but to show up here if there’s any chance at all that I might actually have found an informant ready to blow his identity—which, by the way, would also provide substantial proof of the existence of the Black Council.”
Her golden brows knitted. “What if there’s no chance of such an informant existing?”
I snorted. “Kid, groups like these guys, the ones who maim and kill and scheme and betray—they do what they do because they love power. And when you get people who love power together, they’re all holding out a gift in one hand while hiding a dagger behind their back in the other. They regard an exposed back as a justifiable provocation to stick the knife in. The chances that this group has no one in it who might believably have second thoughts and try to back out by bargaining with the Council for a personal profit are less than zero.”
Molly shook her head. “So . . . he or she will call in the Black Council to help?”
I shook my head. “I think this is happening because the killer slipped up and exposed himself to LaFortier. He had to take LaFortier out, but with all the security at Edinburgh, there was every chance something could go wrong and it did. Everything else he’s done has smacked of desperation. I think that if the Black Council finds out that their mole has screwed up this thoroughly, they’d kill him themselves to keep the trail from leading back to them.” I stared at the glowering mass of Demonreach. “His only chance is to tie off any loose ends that might lead back to him. He’ll be here tonight, Molly. And he’s got to win. He has nothing to lose.”